Runaway
by Jhrbrown
Summary: Written for the Fandom for Preemies Fundraiser. They hate her. All of them. Whoever she is. Weddings aren't meant to be difficult, but this is the worst one Bella's seen yet. Until he shows up and changes everything for both of them. O/S


**Originally written for the Fandom for Preemies fundraiser. **

**Disclaimer: Mrs. Meyer owns anything related to Twilight. I make no profit from this except the private enjoyment I get from torturing people. All ideas and plots found within this one-shot were created in my own mind. (A very scary place) Don't copy or post this  
>to any other site without my permission.<strong>

**Thanks to SparklingWand for beta'ing this mess. She was the biggest backbone  
>and support system the entire time.<strong>

_Exhale. Inhale. Exh..._ "Bella! Get down here! We are going to be late!"

I close my eyes. _In through the nose, out of the mouth._ Okay. I stand up and flatten my skirt. _You can do this, B. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy, remember?_ No. Honestly, I don't remember, but I'll attempt. Slipping my feet into the high heels my mother is forcing me to wear; I realize that I might, in fact, actually be able to pull this off. I bite my lip as a pain shoots through my head. _I am NEVER drinking again. Ever!_

"Isabella Swan. Downstairs... now!" My mother is being too loud. I don't really understand how she can possibly be yelling at the frequency she is after last night. She drank more than I did and I feel like shit.

I check my make-up in the mirror. It's okay, I guess. As I walk to the door, my ankle gives way, so I decide barefoot is safer right now.

"Honey, you look...," she pauses. I assume she's trying to formulate an answer to her own observation.

"Like shit?" I smile and curtsy.

"No. Not like that. Tired! You look absolutely exhausted. I shouldn't have let you stay out so late last night. I'm sorry, baby." She glances at her watch. "We have to get going."

After piling into the car, my father, mother and I are now headed to our destination. I, for one, am dreading every moment I will have to spend at this... this _festivity._ I sigh and my mother glances at me. She'll never really comprehend what or how I feel, even if I drew her the most detailed picture. It's just not something she does.

I lean my head against the glass and feel myself beginning to nod off. The lullaby created by the hum of the tires against the road and the wistful music on the radio are enough to transport me into a dream world.

Well, it's more like a memory... of last night.

"_Oh, how I wish she were marrying my boy instead of her," a cheerful yet somber voice says. "I'd much rather be doing this every night."_

"_Don't be silly, hun, you love her!" My mother retorts._

_I look around. Everything feels familiar and fuzzy, my head spinning and I think I'm drunk. A slender body is sitting next to me. She's shaking and I realize she's crying. _

"_Maybe, motherrr," her voice is slurred and I know she's slightly drunk as well. "We could have spoking to himmm." For some reason, I don't know what she means. I know that "spoking" should have been "spoken" but I can't remember what they're talking about._

"_They were supposed to be married." I look up and see Esme. Her eyes are puffy and red and she's pointing at me. "You were supposed to marry my boy, Bella." She tucks her face into her hands and my mother comforts her._

"_Now, now, Esme, love. Don't be so worried. Eddie knows what he's doing. He's found the one he wants and loves. We were just wishful thinkers when we said they were destined." _

Dad drives unusually fast over a bump and I'm jarred awake. I scowl at him in the rear-view mirror and he smiles. Barely. He's never been big on celebrations. Well honestly, he's never been big on anything that has more than five or so people. My mother, on the other hand, is content and chattering away.

I can tell from the scenery that we're, at the most, five miles from the... the wedding. _Breathe in... and out... _Shaking my head, I continue to tell myself that everything is okay. I, to some degree, know it will be. In the morning, I'll be on a plane headed back for Florida and I'll forget all about this weekend.

Yes, Florida. Warm, sunny _and no memories of what could have been._ My life may be less than perfect there, but I don't have to pretend around any of my friends.

Before I realize it, we've made it to the location of the wedding. From the looks of the decorations placed all over the house and along the drive way, I'd guess his sister, Alice - the crying girl from last night - was in charge of the decor. I cringe at the ridiculous amounts of red, pink and white roses. It's too girly. An overkill of feminism.

"Oh look, honey, isn't it beautiful?" my mother asks to no one in particular._ No, actually it's quite nauseating. Vomit-inducing._ I choke back my laughter and open the door.

Once outside, the cool air whips through my curled locks and nips at my nose. _Who gets married in September, anyways?_ I hold on to the car and slide my shoes on, making sure to grab my father for support as we make our way to the back yard.

"Bella?" The voice is soft and melodic. _Alice_.

I turn and see a half smile plastered on her face. "Alice. Hey, how are you?"

She pulls me into a tight hug, her small arms making it nearly impossible to breathe. "Oh, Bella, I've been so much better."

I pull away and notice she is crying. Definitely not tears of joy, I assume. "You act like this is a funeral, Al. Really, come on, it can't be _that_ bad."

A squeeze on my shoulder startles me. "It is that bad, Ms. Swan." I turn around and see a friendly face. One I've always remembered.

"Emmett? Holy shit, you're like... _huge_!" He laughs his infectious laugh and the three of us stand around laughing in our personal circle of happiness.

"Come on, Bella, I need your help with something." I follow her, considering she nearly yanked my arm off, into the house. _The Cullen Mansion._ I giggle quietly at my thought and my mind begins to transport me to another time. Back before Florida and Jake and "normal." It takes me back to cool summers and freezing winters, all of which revolve around this one house and the family which inhabit it.

Alice tugs me into an empty room, her tears are overpowering her and I'm not too fond of this. I don't like emotional outburst or break-downs. I can't do them... I mean, I can't help people who go through it. Especially if I don't get _why_ she's breaking down.

"I hate her, Bella. I hate her and so does mom and dad and Emmett. Even Rosalie hates her and Rosalie rarely hates anyone!" I begin to understand what's going on.

"Alice, calm down. I think Edward would know if something wasn't right. Don't you?" She shakes her head and I am completely lost. _Does that mean she don't think he would or he doesn't?_ "Al, where's the bathroom? I'll go get you rag or something."

She points and leaves me to my own little adventure because the sobs won't stop. I used to be familiar with everything, but over time, much like the Cullens, their house has changed. _Breathe in... out._ I'm tired of having to breathe to calm myself down. It's a freaking wedding, they're not meant to be this damn difficult.

Three doors later, I've found the bathroom. I lean against the sink and notice my reflection. I don't really recognize it. It doesn't fit in with my old life. I'm tan and my eyebrows have been waxed to perfection. My lips are fuller than they were as a child; they found their current shape around sixteen. My hair is short, shoulder length and curly thanks to my favorite salon, and physically, I'm a woman now. Well-rounded in all the right places.

The reflection, both external and internal, causes me to tear up. I miss the old me. Pale, clumsy, long-haired, lip biting Bella. I miss her. _Where'd she go?_

I wring out the rag and open the door, running into someone because I wasn't paying attention.

"Excuse me," a sweet, deep voice says as muscular arms catch my fall. Looking up for half a second, I realize it was the worst thing I could have ever done.

I gasp, my eyes darting back and forth between his mossy green ones. "Edward?" I whisper.

He smirks crookedly and I melt. I feel every part of my melting away like ice on a stove. His eyes are searching mine, too. I feel them pierce through my wall and touch my soul. _Oh dear heavens alive._ My tongue decides to play Queen Flirt and darts out on its own, which causes his eyes to immediately glance to my mouth.

"_Bella_?" My name drips from his lips like honey just gathered from the hive. My stomach clenches and my breathing reaches a staccato rhythm.

I nod. That's all I _can_ do. My brain is unwilling to do anything more. I feel my bottom lip being pulled in between my teeth, an old habit I thought I rid myself of years ago.

This time, however, his tongue betrays him, darting out, dancing across his lips seductively. _Oh fuck me..._ I have never felt the urge to kiss a man as much as I feel it now. _Kiss me, Edward. Forget whoever it is you're marrying and kiss me!_ His eyes are moving at a rapid pace. It looks as though he's trying to memorize every inch of me. I like it and smile.

We both hear people coming up the stairs and he shoves me back into the bathroom. "What are you doing here?"

I balk at him. "What? I was invited."

"Shit," he mumbles. "Shit, what are you doing? I've not seen you in years and..."

"And what, Edward?" I've started trembling because I don't like the look in his eyes. It's not possessive or scary, it's just... it's different.

He leans in towards me, his breath fanning across my face, the smell of spearmint touches every part of it. His eyes close and I can see them moving behind the lids. He's thinking. The flaring of his nose is proof to that.

Before I'm aware of what's happening, he plants my ass on the sink, his hand reaching out and locking the door. My chest is rising and falling so fast, I can barely keep up with it. My heart beat speeds up as his hands begin to make a path up my legs and tread lightly over my thighs.

He looks up at me, his lips full and glistening. "Run away with me, Bella Swan. I don't know what you're doing to me, but I want you to fucking run away with me."

I want to say no. I do. It's only right considering he's only an hour or so away from marrying… _Who's he marrying?_ I don't have time to ask before his lips slam into mine. Everything before this moment disappears. Hell, I can't think of anything beyond this moment! His lips are soft, smooth, and almost too real. _I could die now._

His hands are now under my dress, his fingers dancing the fine line between "not that innocent" and "I'm going to hell for my sins" on my underwear. I like it and I know I shouldn't, but I can't NOT like it! He's too good. He smells too good, taste a-fucking-mazing and feels… _Oh, God he's hard!_

"Edward," I pull away from his mouth. My lips already plotting to kill me for letting his go and I can almost agree to their tiny ideas. "This… this is wrong, Edward."

His eyes rake over me like I'm his last meal, his only meal. I loathe and love the feeling that look gives me. "It's not. It can't be, Bella. My Bella. I was wrong in searching for something I knew I already had."

I cock my brow. "What? You 'already had?' What did you already have, Edward?"

"You," he whispered. That one word is all it takes to realize he's right. There never was another for me. Never. No matter how many men I dated, I never felt whole. I just felt an empty slot, like a missing time card.

Mike was never enough. No matter how many times he took me camping and _tried_ to make love to me, he would have never been it. Jacob, his sweet smile and warm heart, though I loved him he, too, wouldn't have sufficed. He was it for me as I was it for him. Our parents did have it right from the beginning. We were destined and now I was faced with a decision.

My one and only was here, standing in front of me in his tuxedo for _his_ wedding, begging me to run away with him. I look into his eyes, their soul piercing gaze staring back into mine. I smile, pulling his face to my own, kissing him softly. _Who was I to deny him?_

* * *

><p><strong>I know, I know... horrible of me to end it right there, no?<strong>  
><strong>Well, if you would be ever so kind to review, you never know what might happen.<strong>


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